I opened the door and Bo charged them. He knocked Billy Ray out of the way and went for sweet Bonnie’s arms because she had a bag with something smelly in it.
“Don’t you dare try and take this you little good for nothing drooler, you.” Bonnie yanked the bag up and held it over her head. That would have mattered if she was any taller than a mailbox, but she wasn’t. Unfortunately for her, Bo was, and he went right for the bag.
“I wouldn’t do that if—” I tried to finish that sentence, but Bo had already jumped up on her and knocked her back into Old Man Goodson’s arms.
He didn’t mind. He grabbed a hold of her and squeezed her tight around her waist. She squealed. “Eep. Not so tight, or I might potty a little. The parts don’t work like they used to.”
Old Man Goodson let go, and Bonnie went sailing to the ground.
“Well, that ain’t gonna go over all that well now, is it?” Henrietta, Bonnie’s best friend, said.
Old Man Goodson was paler than a ghost, and frozen in place.
“Don’t just stand there you big lug. Help her up,” Henrietta said.
“Yeah, help me up.”
He did as he was told, because that’s what men did when Henrietta and Bonnie barked an order their direction. Mostly because they scared men, especially men their age. Henrietta and Bonnie had that way about them, and when I hit their age, whatever their age was, because they were ladies, and they would never tell their age, I hoped I’d be just like them.
I pulled my robe tight around me. “Y’all know God isn’t even up yet, right?”
Bonnie straightened her standard potato sack style dress. “’Course we do, but seein’ as we heard what happened last night, we figured we ought to come and stand guard in case you get attacked by them tyrants again.”
Henrietta chimed in. “Yeah, we don’t want those crazy women hurting our girl.”
Bonnie and Henrietta had taken me and Belle in as their own several months back when we’d held a decluttering and staging class at the library, and they’d signed up. Unfortunately, the class didn’t go as planned, but that didn’t stop the two old whippersnappers from latching onto us—and us to them. Since then we’d taken part in a few shenanigans together, and I’d be lying if I said they weren’t fun.
Billy Ray Brownlee and Old Man Goodson were their alternating gentleman friends, and I meant alternating in the literal sense. I just wasn’t exactly sure what gentleman friends actually meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the juicy details on that, either. They couldn’t quite make up their mind regarding which man they wanted to stick with, so they alternated. My guess was they mostly wanted companionship, and simply enjoyed the variety of company. Either way, they switched off on a regular basis, and while some might find that odd, I found it endearing and entertaining, and I was quite sure the men enjoyed it. Why wouldn’t they?
Momma always says variety was the spice of life. I tried to think of that with a wholesome heart and head. “I don’t think you need to worry about me, but Dylan, on the other hand, you might could keep an eye on him.”
Billy Ray laughed. “He don’t need us. He’s got a gun.”
Henrietta punched him on the arm. “Oh bless your heart. Ain’t no bullet big enough gonna stop a momma defending her baby.”
“If that ain’t the truth, nothing is,” Bonnie agreed.
I nodded my head. “I’m with them.”
They sat at my kitchen table, and Old Man Goodson rubbed his ever-growing belly. “You gonna let an old man starve or open that bag of goodies? A man’s got to eat.”
I put on a pot of coffee, let Bo out back, and excused myself to put on some proper clothing. As I dressed, I listened to the group discuss my situation, or what they thought was my situation.
“She doesn’t need those women all up in her business,” Billy Ray said.
“I might could spend the day with her, but I got a doctor’s appointment for the gout at two o’clock. I could ask her to take me,” Bonnie said.
I giggled as I pulled a pale green sweater over my head.
Billy Ray offered to take her to that, as long as there was no county emergency that would require his assistance. He was the top volunteer paramedic. His job was of the utmost importance, and he made sure they knew that in a rather long-winded way.
“You don’t have to hand out those Band-Aids and sweet tea every time someone gets a boo boo, Billy Ray. My gout’s flared up something awful. Look at it.”
I could only imagine what Billy Ray had to look at, and I was glad I wasn’t there. I finished slipping my feet into a pair of socks and headed back to the kitchen where my four friends were already enjoying cups of coffee. Bo had his face in a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Milk dripped from his jowls when I busted him snarfing it up. “Bo, who gave you that?”
Everyone suddenly studied the coffee in their cups with serious faces.
“You guys know how I feel about this.”
Old Man Goodson snuck a peek up from his coffee cup, and the guilt in his eyes gave him away. “But he looked so sad and pathetic with those big puppy eyes burning holes into our souls. Don’t you ever feed him?”
I patted Bo’s muscled back. “Look at this monster. He’s not even a year old yet. Does he look like he’s starving?”
Bonnie held the corners of her dress out for me. “He was drooling all over my dress. I paid good money for this thing.”
Henrietta snorted. “You bought it at the Goodwill by the outlet mall. You didn’t pay more than five dollars for it.”
“It’s by a famous designer. Billy Ray, check the tag. It’s that Juice person, right?” She pulled on the back of the collar. Here. What’s it say? I know I paid good money for this thing.”
He took his glasses from the top of his head and put them on. “Looks like Faded Qlory?”
Henrietta slapped her thigh and laughed, loudly. “Glory. That’s a designer name all right. If you’re shopping at the Walmart.”
“I’m about ready to take this gout-fueled foot and stick it where the sun don’t shine.”
I’d never seen two old men move as fast as Old Man Goodson and Billy Ray did right then. Even Bo sensed the battle beginning to brew and got up and hid behind Billy Ray’s legs.
“Good gravy, she’s up and pitchin’ a hissy fit, and I ain’t even started yet.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Well, this is going to get good. Maybe I should invite Ginnie and Clarissa and their crew back? I bet y’all could take them out in a heartbeat.”
“Darn tootin’,” Bonnie said.
“Those young’un’s ain’t got nothing on us,” Henrietta said.
I’d effectively redirected their energy back to the reason they’d come to my house so early. “So, tell me, how did you hear about what happened? It was pretty late.”
“My police radio,” Bill Ray said. “Dylan reported the women at your place right when he pulled up. Said to stay prepared for a call out in case he needed back up.”
I about choked on my hazelnut coffee. “He thought he might need back up? For a bunch of lacrosse moms?”
“That he did.”
“Wow.”
“Nothing’s scarier than a group of momma’s defending their babies,” Old Man Goodson said.
“That’s true. They were about ready to take me down, but I used my daddy’s whistle on them, and that got them in order.”
“What did they want?” Bonnie asked.
“They wanted me to talk to Dylan. I guess they think he can influence the state athletic association and convince them to reinstate the school’s lacrosse program, but according to Dylan, he can’t. Oh, and did you know he’s arrested Bobby Yancy?”
The four of them spoke at once. “We—"
Henrietta said in a sharp, distinct voice. “Let me talk. We decided I’m the best communicator in the group.”
Bonnie mumbled under her breath. “That ain’t how it happened. You won the coin toss.”
<
br /> “Same thing.” She continued. “We know. Billy Ray here told us. Said they got them all kinds of evidence.”
“Not really, at least not the kind I think will hold up in court, and besides, there is evidence that could be used against other people, too.” That got me thinking. “Hey do any of you know anyone in Bobby Yancy’s family?”
They all shook their heads.
“Well, I’m going to do some digging then.”
“About what? I like to dig,” Bonnie said.
“I’m a digger, too,” Old Man Goodson said.
“Best digger in town right here,” Billy Ray said.
“A lady doesn’t dig, but I might could do some investigating using my ladylike ways,” Henrietta said.
“Honey, your ladylike ways dried up and died years ago,” Bonnie said.
Billy Ray laughed, but he stopped when Henrietta’s eyes burned with the stare only the devil could duplicate. Even I was afraid to laugh.
“Well, I’ve got to get ready for work, and Bo here definitely needs a good walk.” I did my best to deflect the situation before it got heated and poor Billy Ray spent the rest of his life in the dog house. “How about y’all just spend your day taking care of yourselves? I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I am under strict orders by the county sheriff to mind my own business,” I lied, “and I’m sure that order would extend itself to you if he finds out you’re nosing around his investigation.”
Bonnie stood up and balanced herself against my table, since clearly, her foot really was bothering her. “But we don’t want those mean mommas getting their claws into you.”
“And I appreciate that, but look at you. You’re a hot mess, and I am going to need you sooner rather than later. So, I’m sure of it, so you go and get that foot taken care of, you hear? Now all of you, you go and take care of your own, and you let me worry about what I’ve got to worry about, and I’ll let you know what I find out. I’ll handle Dylan, and trust me, I’ve handled a mean girl or two in my past, so I can handle these mean mommas no problem. I promise.”
And I meant that.
They begrudgingly left, but not before assuring me they’d be there the minute I needed them, and I didn’t doubt that for a hot minute.
* * *
First on my list of things to do was dig a little into Bobby Yancy’s family. I needed to find out if he had any connection into the medical field. The easiest way to do that, of course, was to ask him, but that was also the quickest way to screw up Dylan’s investigation, and also the fastest way to mess up my relationship, so instead, I hit Millie’s Café after dropping Bo off to play with his friends.
Little did I know, I wouldn’t have to go all the way to Millie’s for information. The morning front desk employee at doggy day care answered my questions without me having to ask.
“Can you believe they arrested Mr. Yancy for that murder? Well, of course, you probably knew it was happening, what with you datin’ the sheriff and all. Why, I’m just a wreck from the news. I live next door to Bobby Jr.’s cousins. Practically grew up with the family. It’s a shame. Mr. Yancy is one of the nicest men I know. Don’t think he’d hurt a flea.”
Funny, he didn’t seem all that nice to me, but I didn’t say that to her. “I am pretty surprised actually that they arrested him. I didn’t know you knew the family.”
“Sure do. My daddy used to play cards with Mr. Yancy and his brother-in-law. I guess that’s what they are since their last names are different, and Bobby Jr. calls my neighbors aunt and uncle.”
“Probably so then.”
“And I know Emma Sue and Mrs. Yancy are for sure sisters because they work at the post office together, or they used to till Emma Sue got a job at the flower shop. She’s got a way with flowers, she does. Can grow them better than anyone I seen, and plus, she’s super good at putting them in vases and such.”
“Do you know if any of them worked in the medical field?”
“You mean my neighbors, the Barrett family? Not that I know of, but I don’t think so. Mr. Barrett does something in Alpharetta. Wears a uniform, but I don’t know what. Maybe a plumber or something. I don’t know. I don’t pay much attention. I just know what Emma Sue does ‘cause my momma talks about it all the time, and I seen her flowers and all.”
A man walked in with one of those big poodles, and it jumped up on me and put its paws on my shoulders. It swiped it’s tongue across my face, and I was pretty sure I’d have a drool line from my chin to my forehead, plus, I smelled wet dog food. Blech.
“Bella, down,” the man said.
The dog was taller and stronger than me and had pushed me into the front of the counter.
“Bella, down.”
Bella needed a little bit of training. I pushed her off with my knee. She backed away. I guided her down with my hands pressed firmly into her shoulders. “Down, Bella. Sit.”
She sat.
I hovered my palm just above her eyes. “Stay.”
She stayed.
The man watched in amazement. “How’d you do that?”
I kept my hand there, pretty shocked myself, and afraid if I spoke the spell would be broken. So, I whispered instead. “I have absolutely no idea.” I patted Bella on the head. “Good girl,” I said, and the spell did break. She bounded off toward the half door to the doggy rooms and barked to be let in, not even saying goodbye to her daddy. The front desk girl walked back with her.
I decided to make a trip to the jail. Dylan would expect that from me. I wouldn’t ask Bobby Yancy about any medical professionals in his family, at least not directly, but maybe if I hinted to it, he’d tell me something. Or at least I hoped he’d tell me something.
The thing I loved best about Bramblett County was that even though it wasn’t small, I could get anywhere in fifteen minutes, except the jail, which I made it to in seven, without speeding.
Dylan ran a budget increase campaign recently to update the temporary cells at the jail and won, and for the past year, they’d been unavailable for, as he’d called it, transient storage. I hated that term, but he thought it was funny. Law enforcement humor, he’d called it. Typically, I’d visited suspects in the long term units, but Bobby Yancy was the first suspect I’d visited in the short term unit.
If my boyfriend didn’t win his reelection, he’d have a shot at a career in business office decorating, because he’d done a stellar job on the new design. Instead of a steely gray paint job, he’d used a muted whitish yellow, and I hoped to remind myself to remember to get the name of the exact color. Whatever it was, it had a calming effect on me, and I assumed he’d done some kind of research and discovered that was the intent of the color, but when I thought about it further, I realized it was probably dumb luck on his part. I doubted guys gave decorating that much thought, especially for suspected criminals.
He’d also updated the visitor’s lounge for the area, used the same color on the walls, and even put window treatments up. The creamy beige solid curtains didn’t hide the metal bars covering the glass windows, but they did add a homey touch, and it was nice to see Dylan trying to make the room more inviting. I even smelled vanilla air freshener. My boyfriend had a softer side at work. What a sweetie.
A deputy escorted Bobby Yancy into the room, his legs cuffed together with a long chain, and his hands the same. My heart sank. I didn’t know if he was a murderer or not, but I didn’t think he deserved that.
He eyed me up and down. “I thought I’d see you soon enough.”
I wondered why he wasn’t behind a glass wall like the other times I’d come to visit suspected killers. “I’m not exactly sure, but I felt like I should come.”
He sat down and the deputy cuffed one of his legs to the leg of the table with another cuff, and removed the other from his leg. He did the same with his hands, allowing one to remain free, though I wasn’t quite sure why. If Yancy wanted, he could swat at me, or grab something and swing it at me. I eyed the area surrounding me and realized there wasn’t anything
within his reach. Score one for Dylan. He obviously knew his stuff.
“I’ll be over there if you need me.” The deputy said, pointing to the corner of the visitor’s lounge, near the large, black steel door he’d entered with his prisoner.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I figured you’d show up eventually. I know about you. You like to stick your nose into other people’s business. It’s your thing.”
“You have a knack for insulting people, don’t you?”
“I tell the truth, that’s what I do.”
I had set my bag on the table, but I scooped it up and stood. I didn’t need, nor deserve to be treated like that, especially when I’d come to try and help a man I wasn’t even sure was innocent, and definitely didn’t feel deserved my help. I had a feeling talking to him would be like talking to a brick wall anyway. “That’s fine. I’ll take my desire to help elsewhere then, Mr. Yancy. Good luck.” I walked toward the door, fully ready to leave because Bobby Yancy was saltier than a cracker in my meemaw’s chicken noodle soup, and I didn’t need that.
“Now, hold your horses. You don’t need to be leaving just yet.”
I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn around, nor did I say anything. I wanted to, but I abided by Momma’s number one rule, if you don’t have anything nice to say, zip it. As hard as it was, I zipped it tight as I could by keeping my lips pressed together because I did not want to have to atone for what might come out of my mouth at that moment later, when the good Lord came calling. Trust me, it was ugly to the bone.
He kept his mouth shut too, so I stood there and waited. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds, I turned around and gave him the good Southern woman stare; think Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind. The kind a Southern man knew meant he was in for a serious what-for if he didn’t do what he was supposed to do, and do it right quick. All Southern women were born with the ability to give the good Southern woman stare. It was our God given gift, and we used it whenever we felt the need, which, for most Southern women, was on a daily basis. Lord help the people we loved.
Signed, Sealed and Dead Page 8
